How to Get into Heaven without Really Trying
by Madison Square
Summary: Rated for language and violence. Spot's days of ruling Brooklyn are over. CH 2 UP!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN NEWSIES. DON'T SUE!

==   
  
How to Get Into Heaven without Really Trying

==  
  
Prologue  
  
==  
  
Madison Square  
  
==  
  
Spot was dead and he knew it. He could feel his own spirit rising up and up and up and disappearing into nothingness.  
  
It was the alcohol that killed him. Well, actually it was the jackass with the gun, but the alcohol helped a little.  
  
A normal night out on the town, it was. Drinks all around. The Brooklyn boys sat in the smoke-filled pub, talking and laughing and getting very drunk. The hangover the following morning would be Hell, but they could deal with that in exchange for one night of hedonistic fun.  
  
The fun ended when some man with red eyes and greasy hair blamed Blade, one of Spot's favorite boys, for spilling his drink. The boys were too drunk—or perhaps, too stupid—to point out that he had indeed spilled his own drink and was wasting time convicting them of such a petty crime. One thing led to another, helped along by beer, and soon Blade was caught in a tussle with the red-eyed man. Both men were slight but tall, but while Blade's hostility spawned from chemical substances, the man's came from somewhere deep in his heart. One could see it in his eyes: he was dangerous.   
  
The atmosphere in the pub was misty, thick; the people were itching for a brawl. The smell of blood was in the air. Spot could smell it, too, but his mind was hazy and he was grinning without a reason. He didn't think twice about it.  
  
That was when the fucker pulled out a gun. Spot saw it first. Black and bulky and disgusting and he was _cheating_! Brooklyn acted on reflex, and as the two fighters rose to the circle of chanting men around them, he dove.  
  
A _crack_ from the gun. The smell of gun powder in the air.  
  
A hush.  
  
Collectively, a gasp from the crowd.  
  
Spot felt blackness descend over him.  
  
He hoped his hair was okay.  
  
==  
  
End Prologue  
  
[A/N]:  
  
I know it's short, but deal with it. I'm kind of just messing around with the idea. Should I continue? Haha.  
  
Oh, and I can't actually take credit for the last line. I remember reading it in a HP fic but it was ages ago and now I can't remember what it was called or who wrote it. Sorry.  
  
**CASTING CALL:**  
  
Looking for 5-10 girls AND boys to play the role of those whom Spot has wronged (will take 5-10 of the best characters who fit with the story, other characters may appear as extras).  
  
Fill out the following:  
  
Name:  
  
Age:  
  
Appearance:  
  
Personality:  
  
Quirks:  
  
Likes/Dislikes:  
  
Any favorite sayings?  
  
Give a brief background of the character.  
  
Note Not all the information will be used, it's just there to help me get to know the character more.  
  
You've already read, now Review please!!!!!! 


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer:  I DON'T OWN NEWSIES.  DON'T SUE!

==   
  
How to Get Into Heaven without Really Trying

==  
  
Chapter One  
  
==  
  
Madison Square  
  
==  
  
            He was floating.  His head was swirling with white clouds and everything was misty and blissful and perfect.  
            If this is what hangovers felt like in Heaven, Spot should have died sooner.  
            "Oh, dear," he heard a mystical voice say.  It was sweet and echoed in his ears.  His mind filled with images of beautiful people dressed in all white and bells ringing.  
            "Wake up, honey," she said.  "Wake up."  
            He opened his eyes to see the angel before him, but instantly he was blinded by the celestial light.  He winced and shielded his eyes in vain.  The light was everywhere.  
            "I keep telling Him to turn off that Light, but He insists that it is good for His complexion.  I'm sorry."  
            "Him?  Him who?"  
            Laughter like tiny bells jingling filled his ears.  
            "The Lord God of course."   
            He tried to make out the figure standing before him, but all he could see was a dark silhouette of what he presumed was a woman in a flowing white dress.  And—was that a flicker of _wings_?  
            He looked down at whatever surface he was sitting on and gasped.  There was nothing but mist under him!  
            "Yes, that _does_ tend to scare newcomers."  
            He turned quickly to the woman again and his head spun with the light.   
            "Where am I?  Am I in—"  
            "Heaven?"  
            He nodded.  
            "No, dear child, you are not."   
            "Then—"  
            "You are in limbo."  
            "Huh?"  Her silver-bell laughter rang again and Spot couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed.  Angel or not, she was aggravating.  
            "Limbo," she said happily, twirling around so that her dress flowed about her.  "The gateway between the living and the dead.  Your spirit has not yet been accepted into either afterworld."  
            "Huh?"  
            She stopped twirling and put her hands on her hips, facing him.  She must have been scowling.  
            "Your spirit floated up here, tried to go through the Gates, but when they didn't open, your spirit lost energy, and fainted.  You are stuck in the in-between."  
            "Oh, damn," he said with feeling.  
            "Shh!" she frantically whispered.  "We do not use such language Up Here."  
            "Oh, _darn_."  
            A beat of silence passed over them.  
            "So," he started uncertainly, "who are you?"  
            She laughed again, and the noise grated against his ears.  People Up Here were too happy, he decided.  
            "My name is—" She let out a high pitch scream, followed by two clicks with her tongue, then emitted a noise akin to a chattering chipmunk.  
            "Um," Spot said.  "That's nice."  
            "Oh, you mortals have so little control over the palate.  You may call be Gwyndolyn."   
            "Gwyndo-what?"   
            She sighed.  "Just Gwyn, dear."  
            "Gwyn," he said slowly, experimenting with the name.  "So, Gwyn, what am I here for?"  
            "You have no place in Heaven—or Hell.  Not yet."  Her voice suddenly dipped lower, losing her previous lightheartedness.  "You have some unfinished business down in that mortal world."  
            "Like what?"  
            "Like righting some wrongs; tying up loose ends."  She cleared her throat and pulled out a scroll from a fold in her gown.  Spot squinted his eyes against the glare and saw her unroll the parchment.  
            In an air of formality, she announced:  
            "Samuel Conlon, it is hereby decreed that you shall remain in the Neither World until you redeem yourself.  You must travel to the Mortal World as a spirit and make right your wrong doings.  The following are people you have offended in some way:  
            1.  Mr. Thomas Baker, 2.  Miss Tina Smith, 3.  Mr. Nicholas Darling…"  
            The list went on.  Spot gaped at the amount of people he had supposedly wronged.  So what if he stole some bread every other day?  Didn't everybody?  
            "52.  Miss Fei Chen, 53.  Miss Alison Hudson, 54.  Mr. Cian Parker, 55.—"  
            "Hold on, miss.  How are there so many people?"  He could not believe how polite he was being.  There must have been something in the air Up Here.  
            "Honey," she said, her voice coated with sugar, "you offended at least one person a day.  You made quite the handful of enemies."   
            "But how will I—"  
            "Hush.  You only need to amend a few.  Enough for Him to welcome you into His lands."  
            "How many?  What if I don't help enough people?"  
            "Only five or six of the more serious sins you committed.  If you don't help enough…then, it's Hell for you, boy."  
            "_Great_."  
            "Hush, child!" she said abruptly.  He hushed.  "You have been told what you must do!  You now have two weeks of mortal time to carry it through!"  
            "Two weeks?"  
            "Yes!"  The air around her was starting to chill.  He felt like a stone had settled into his stomach.  
            "It will decide which after world you enter.  Not to worry, I will be there to guide you!" she sang.  Lovely, Spot thought.  Just _lovely_.  He felt the clouds closing over him, and then he was falling, falling, falling.  
            Before he was overcome by the light, he heard the angel say quickly, like she had almost forgotten, "Remember!  You cannot be seen, or heard!  But you can be _felt_!"  
            As he contemplated her words, he closed his eyes and let the whiteness engulf him.  
            He hoped his skin didn't look too pale.  
  
==  
  
End Chapter One  
  
==  
  
[A/N]:  
  
You'll see in the next chapter whether or not your characters are used!  
  
Thanks to **parkranger** for telling my about my typo when Gwyn said "Wake up, honey."  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
**Matchin****' Laces:  **I love your name.  It's so great.  I'm guessing you're a Mush fan?    
  
**Dakki**:  ::is glomped::  Awww, thanks babe.  You're a pretty great writer, too!  
  
**klover**:  Why, thank you.  I think it's pretty cool, too.  Hahah.  Spot IS a cocky little bastard.  But a lovable one.  
  
**Wisecracker88**:  Do you get it now?  Please say you do!  
  
**Angie**:  ThanQ for the character, hun.  
  
**Ccatt**:  JINX.  Duuuude.  What a name.  
  
**Strawberry Shake**:  Thanx for the character, and the nickname!  I realize now that I should have included that in the criteria or whatever.    
  
**QuietViolence**:  Cian sounds like an interesting, nice guy.  There need to be more guys like him in this world.  
  
**Dimonah**** Tralon**:  Thank you!    I'm glad you liked it.  
  
**uninvisible**:  Both of your characters are pretty cool.  One thing about Hyena though.  She's Asian, almost fifteen, and … 5'7"!  Sorry, that just doesn't happen often.  Do you mind if I make her shorter?  I'm Asian, 16, and … 5 feet.  Meep.  
  
**elvenrarehunter**:  Yay!  Thanx!

**Cassies****-Grandma**:  Thanx babe!  Btw, quirks are just little oddities about the character.  Like he absolutely HATES people who like peanut butter, or something strange like that.  
  
**Moonlights Sundance**:  Thanx for the character!  I like your name, very sweet.  
  
**studentnumber24601**:  Aww.  Now I feel bad.  Because you were off studying your butt off.  I hope they went well.  If you want, you can send in your CC and I'll see what I can do with him/her.  Thanx for the review!  
  
**waternymph**:  Technically, the casting call was closed.  But I'll see what I can do with you character anyway.  Thanks for the CC!  
  
You've already read, now Review please!!!!!!


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer:  I DON'T OWN NEWSIES.  DON'T SUE!

==   
  
How to Get Into Heaven without Really Trying

==  
  
Chapter Two  
  
==  
  
Madison Square  
  
==  
  
            Spot realized two things when he opened his eyes.  One: that he was in a somewhat familiar street.  Two: that the world was on sideways.  The ground isn't supposed to be on your _left_, is it?    
            He was in Hell, he thought.  His very own sideways Hell.  Was this how They were going to torture him?  Messing with his equilibrium?  
            He heard horse hooves hitting the ground in rapid succession_.  Ker-lack, ker-lack, ker-lack!_    
            He was going to die.  Again.  Trampled to death by a horse pulling a buggy.  Oh, well.  He had already died once; dying a second time wouldn't hurt much, would it?  Unless, in this Hell, he would be trampled over and over again, like that poor soul forever pushing that giant rock up the hill.  
            He closed his eyes and waited for the horse to come.   
            And waited.    
            And waited.  
            Puzzled, his blue eyes opened and he saw the horse and buggy on the other side of him.  How strange.  Maybe the driver had averted the potential accident?  
            Then he heard laughter.  It wasn't the soft tinkling of bells like Gwyn's; it was loud, raucous, teenage-manly.  And it was coming from somewhere _above_ him.  
            He moved out of the street and onto the sidewalk lined with small shops and different colored canopies.  There was still that laughter.  
            " 'Ey, Spirit!" he heard someone call.  It wasn't directed to him, then.  Probably just another newsy with a stupid nickname.  
            " 'Ey, Spirit!" the voice cried again, louder.  Again, Spot ignored it.  
            "OI!  _YOU_!"  
            This time Spot turned to the source of the voice, just in case.  But when he looked behind himself, there was no one there who could have asked for him.  
            "Up here."  
            Spot looked up.  Perched on the green canopy above the butcher shop was a man.  A boy, really.  
            He was thin and had long limbs, but he looked strong, wiry.  Maybe a little bit like Spot himself.  The boy's bright blue eyes sparkled with laughter and he flicked his wavy brown hair out of his face.  
            "That was quite the laugh, Spirit."  It was only then that Spot realized the boy was transparent.  He could see the bricks _behind_ him.  Spot looked down at his own feet.  He could see the concrete beneath his shoes.    
            He looked up at the boy again, panicked.  
            "What's—" he started, but the boy interrupted him.  
            "Come up here."  
            "How?"  
            "Jump," he said easily.  The boy shrugged and waited.  
            Spot jumped.  His feet didn't hit the ground again.  
            "Woah," he said.  Apparently, this was hilarious because it set the boy off again.  He laughed uncontrollably.  
            Spot maneuvered himself until he was sitting next to the chuckling teen.  Eventually the laughter died down.  
            "So, who are you?" Spot asked as soon as the other boy had regained his breath.  
            "The name's Fitzpatrick.  Dan Fitzpatrick.  But you can call me Jinx."  Dan's eyes glinted.  
            "Why?"  
            "I'm bad luck," he answered breezily with a wave of his hand.  
            "Oh."  
            "You want to know how I died?" he continued, unfazed.  
            "Um."  
            "I was running down the street when someone _happened_ to knock a flower pot off their window ledge and someone _happened_ to shout, 'Move, kid!  And then I just _happened_ to duck out of the way and trip over something and fall into the street, and then a trolley just _happened_ to be rolling by, and I just _happened_ to be in its way.  And then—SMACK!  I just _happened_ to die."  
            "Bad luck," Spot said sympathetically.  
            "Yeah."  He paused.  "So, who are you and how'd you die?"  
            "I'm Spot.  I was shot."  His story wasn't nearly as long as Jinx's, but it was brief and abrupt and it made him sound indifferent to his own death.  Spot felt very suave and smirked to himself.   
            His smirk fell when Jinx spoke.  
            "That's it?"  
            He glared at him.  Jinx was unfazed.  
            "You looked like you'd have a story, is all."  
            The two sat in a thick silence.  Jinx fidgeted.  
            "How long are you down here for, then?"  
            "Two weeks."  
            "Is that all?"  Spot glared again.  "I'm here for another two weeks, too.  But I've already been down here a month.  It's quite fun, actually."  
            Spot watched the mortals bustling about below him, ignoring the chattering boy.  Sensing some animosity, Jinx murmured, "Sorry."  
            Spot sulked.  
            "Watch this, then."  Jinx swooped down onto the sidewalk and looked up, waiting for Spot to follow.  Grudgingly, he did.  A few moments later he was hovering next to his ghost-pal.  Blue eyes gleamed mischievously and Spot wondered what he was up to.  
            A couple dressed in fancy upper-middle class garb strutted by, the woman's arm linked with the man's.  
            Jinx walked alongside them and Spot followed.    
            The couple didn't seem to notice.  
            Jinx leaned close to the woman's ear and whispered, "Your husband is so loving, isn't he?"  The wife looked over wistfully at the man beside her.  The man glanced over and smiled.  They were young, Spot noted.  In their late twenties, maybe.  "Too bad he's loving your housemaid."  
            Then Jinx stepped back (well, _floated_ is the more appropriate term).  Just in time, too, because the lady dropped the man's arms and shrieked, "You're having an affair, aren't you?"  The husband looked around, startled.  
            Some people had stopped in curiosity to watch the lover's spat.  
            "What?!"  His face burned bright red.  Jinx chuckled.  
            "An _affair_!" the woman shouted, and hiked up her dress.  She ran.  
            Jinx laughed again heartily, clutching at his sides.  
            "That was awful," Spot said, keeping a straight face.  He really should have been an actor when he was living.  
            "That was _true_," Jinx said between laughs.  "Do you think I'd do that to the couple if it weren't _true_?"  
            "Yes," Spot answered immediately, warily standing next to him.  
            "Oh."  Jinx sobered.  "_Oh_," he said again.  "Well, I wouldn't'."  
            Spot only nodded.  
            Jinx straightened and wiped his hair from his eyes that had dulled a bit in color.  
            "Just thought I'd show you that.  It's how you'll 'finish your business'."  
            "Thanks," Spot answered stiffly, then burst into laughter.  Hell, that _was_ pretty funny.  Jinx smiled.  Spot suspected that if he been a girl, he would have swooned.  
            Maybe this after-life thing wasn't so bad, after all.  
  
==  
  
End Chapter Two  
  
==  
  
[A/N]:  
Sorry this took so frickin' long.  I read this story called "Going Home" by RiotAct a while ago, and it's about the SAME EXACT thing.  Spot's in limbo and he has to right some wrongs.  And there was even a casting call.  Now, it's a good story, and I am proud to say that I DID NOT copy it, thank you very much (Couldn't have anyway, since RiotAct's story was posted a day after mine).  Needless to say, I felt kinda disappointed and very unoriginal, so I left this fic for a while.  But NOW I'M BACK.  Hopefully.    
  
LATER CHAPTERS = MORE CC CHARACTERS.  Woot woot.  
I LOVE JINX!  Hehe.  
Don't worry, there will be other CC characters, too.  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
**Dimonah Tralon**:  Thanx!  I hope you liked this chapter.  
  
**Ccatt**:  Like Jinx here?  I LOVED HIM, thank you so much for him!  Haha.  And I hope your friend hasn't suffered any traumatic coke experience.  You know, with you spitting it all over her.  Hehe.  
  
**Dakki**:  HAHA.  I'm all for babbling.  And I haven't seen any eps of South Park, so I have no idea who you're talking about, but oh well.  
  
**Strawberri Shake**:  thanx for the review!  Yes, Gwyn is indeed an angel, a rather strange one, too.  
  
**Cassies-Grandma**:  Thanx for telling me your character quirks!  Hehe.  Hope you liked the chapter.  
  
**parkranger:**  ::blush::  Thanx for telling me about my typo.  I am lazy and rarely reread what I've typed.  Hehe.  So, yeah.  Thanx!  
  
**Wisecracker88**:  Of course you're not stupid!  Hehe.  Thanx for the review.  
  
**Elvenrarehunter**:  Thanx, dude.  Hehe.  And I love your name.  
  
**Moonlights Sundance**:  Short is all good.  Thanx for the review!  
**  
uninvisible**:  Yay for transitions!  Hehe.  So, do you mind if I make Hyena like 5'4"?  Or something.  'Cause to get technical, or whatever, back then the nutrition and health and stuff weren't so great, so people would be shorter.  So if you're really against it, I can still make her 5'7".  ASIAN POWER!  
  
**QuietViolence**:  Sorry it took so long for the next chapter.  ::hangs head shamefully::  SCHOOL IS OUT!  WOOT WOOT.  
  
You've already read, now Review please!!!!!!


End file.
